The hall fell into an uneasy silence the moment Gloria disappeared through the doors. Enrique’s jaw tightened, every instinct in him screamed to follow her.
She had walked out with her shoulders stiff, water pooling at the corners of her eyes and her head bowed. It made something dark coil in his chest. He didn’t like the way Mira’s hand had connected with her face, didn’t like the sound it had made. Didn’t like the way no one had stopped it until he had.
And he liked even less that Gloria hadn’t looked back.
But his father’s order rang louder than his instincts. Slowly, he turned back to the younger wolves, their voices already beginning to rise again now that the servant girl—Gloria—was gone. His jawline twitched as he dragged a hand down his face, forcing himself back into the moment
